I’m not sure how we found ourselves here. I look at the walls of this familiar fortress, but no longer recognise it as home.

The walls used to be warm and inviting. Pretty pastels adorned them. Cosy rugs covered the floor. Soft pillows and blankets shrouded the welcoming, safe bed.

The sound of carefree chatter used to ring through the room. Giggles and laughter bouncing like balls between us. It’s intermittent now, a cautious chorus rumbling in the recesses. A guarded galliard leaving us breathless and spent.

The pastels have slowly faded to grey. The rugs have been discarded, cold wooden floors now exposed. And the bed, the bed now resembles a grave. All softness dissipated, and the hard mattress rests like a tomb.

I sit huddled in the corner. Bare. Raw. My knees at my chest. I am little. Huddled. Furled.

Across the room, I see you. Crouched in the corner. Insular. Vulnerable. No longer towering. You are small. Lost. Afraid.

My eyes blink. There was a time the tears would fall. They would flow like rivers to wash away the sorrow. They would create a river of salt, like the Nile, where I would float and find my way back to you. Always back to you. You.

They are dry. They are barren. They don’t remember how to feel anymore. How can that be? My head questions why my heart is not aching. My hand rests against my chest, desperately reaching to feel its steady beat. Nothing. It’s muted. Buried. How can that be? How can I be alive when all I feel is numb?

Our eyes are locked on each other, focused in a hypnotic trance. I’m unsure if we register each other or if our vision is now merely an optical illusion, looking beyond, looking through. Are we merely shadows now? How can I see when all I feel is blind?

My arm stretches towards you, my hand reaches to touch. The space between us is small, you’re in touching distance, but the gap is a chasm I just can’t seem to jump. How can someone who touched me so deeply sit just beyond my reach? Beyond all reach, for all time?

I hear my breath. They are slow, they are deep. I can feel the exhalation against my soft skin. I can hear your lungs reach for oxygen and the sound of your chest rise and fall. The air we share is stale and thick. How can it be that the one who revived me now shares this suffocating fate?

When did we break? At what point did the cracks fail? When did we shatter into a thousand sharp pieces? When did our small hands start bleeding from the wounds of the jagged shards? When did the pinks become stained with crimson?

The silence is loud. The muted orchestra is deafening. Its cacophony forces us to cower. We cover our ears to block out the sound. It plays on loop, round and round. I look to you. You look to me. The smallest smiles flicker, and lonely tears seep from our eyes. I look to the door, and your eyes follow my gaze.

Can I muster the strength to rise? Will my legs buckle under the weight of the heartache I carry? Will the force of my frustration render me immobile? Will I stand alone? Will you follow? What lies beyond the cell we created in our confusion? Dare I depart our dungeon of duplicity?

My body draws breath, my shoulders straighten, and I start to rise. Your eyes widen as you woefully watch. I see the panic permeate every pore. I see the regret ripple over your core. I see your heart harden to stone. I hear your silent screams. I hear you plead. Wasn’t I enough? Don’t I matter at all? These are not questions for me. They are for him. I am not him. You know this.

I stumble to the door, my fingertips rest upon the handle. This end is inescapable. This home strips my soul and haunts my happiness. No longer a safe sanctuary but a chamber of chaos. We were supposed to calm the chaos, together, as one. The tragedy of our tale lilts a lamentable lullaby. Our love is everlasting, but our needs are disparate.

I push the heavy door open, my eyes take a moment to adjust, I blink through tears and swallow desperately, trying to clear the lump constricting my throat. I look ahead, and I expect a path, a direction of travel. Instead, I see rocks, boulders glinting in the sunlight. Shards of mirrored glass coat their surface. What is this sorcery? There is a climb ahead, a scramble over the ruined remains of this once solid structure. The mirrored shards bring me face-to-face with the girl I am. All of me. All I am. All I have done. All I must forgive. All I must repent. All I have lost.

I cannot escape her glare. Every turn her eyes meet mine like a kaleidoscope of changing patterns. I don’t recognise this girl anymore. She’s a stranger to me now. Her eyes scream with sorrow, her face etched with grief, her smile surrendered in shame; she’s in pieces. Fractured. Just not strong enough to hold.

We loved. Oh, how we loved.

We tried. Oh, how we tried.